


Before Bad Things Happen

by orphan_account, station_oracle



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: F/M, Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Masturbation, Past Relationship(s), Rating May Change, Sexual Fantasy, Slow Build, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/station_oracle/pseuds/station_oracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elias Selberg was just doing his job as a part of the science team. At least that's what he wanted them to think.<br/>Isabel Lovelace was a good Captain to her crew of the Hephaestus. She was strong of mind and relatively happy with the mission.</p><p>***<br/>Canon-compliant as of episode 26.<br/>Loveberg is the new favourite trash ship of all the cool kids. Lovelace is a flirt. Selberg is not. Angst will be off the charts soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"No one who matters ends up in a place like this," he muttered as he explored his old - no, his new lab. They'd changed just enough to make the process tedious. Workbenches a few centimeters taller, positions of the acid and flammable cupboards switched, parafilm nowhere to be found. It seemed like some obscure joke of Mr Cutter. Selberg wouldn't put it past the man. Canaveral had praised Selberg's work when he'd gotten back to Earth, but Mr Cutter had just looked him over and asked how many teams it was going to take before he got real results. And then sent him back out with two weeks of shore leave.

It was barely enough time. He spent it at the hospital, mostly. Triple-checking test results by night and watching Olga by day. She was unconscious, set in deep cryo-sleep to reduce tissue damage. The capsule they kept her in was constantly measuring her heartbeat and breathing, blood pressure and the progression of the symptoms. He had helped with the design before he'd shipped out for his first deployment. To be precise, he sold the design to Goddard to have it made for her. At first he had planned to add a way to hold her hand, gloved, but it was too risky. And there wasn't enough time before Mr. Cutter send him to his first assignment.

This visit had been all too similar. And now it was over.

He hadn't met the crew until they were on the tarmac. He hadn't bothered to properly examine them; the next two years would provide plenty of time for observation. The files were enough for a start. It was a light read compared to the hospital notes, and it passed the time. Much more pleasant to learn about other people than to take in his own new identity. “Elias Selberg.” Command outdid themselves on this one.

A sharp rapping rang from the metal door to his lab, breaking his musings.

"Come in," he called to the air. The door opened, and Captain Lovelace floated through into his lab.

Lovelace was not a small woman, but she seemed to occupy more space in the room than her physical size should allow.

"Morning, Doctor Selberg. Settling in nicely, are you?"

Without waiting for further invitation, she navigated herself through his lab towards him. Selberg twitched forward, torn between desires to stop her from touching anything, and to guide her through maneuvering in microgravity. Both were foolish impulses, and he hid the aborted motion with a shrug.

"Da. Everything is good, Captain."

This was, unfortunately, not true. Watching her movements through his lab, he saw that he'd forgotten to secure a number of specimens when he'd placed them on the bench, and they were currently floating their way to freedom. Maybe two weeks of shore leave had been too long. Maybe it would have been better if he didn’t go back at all. He launched himself towards the nearest of the samples and Lovelace instantly joined him. She seemed better at navigating microgravity when she had a goal, picking up bits of plants, fungi and insects.

"Don't feel too bad," she told him reassuringly. "Fisher is covered in bruises, Hui is wiping orange juice out of the air filters, and Lambert won't stop sneezing."

"Lambert is sneezing?" Lambert shouldn't have been exposed until immediately before the mission. There was no way he should be symptomatic already. Unless Selberg's calculations were way off. Impossible. Perhaps Canaveral had some other hand they were playing. Selberg attempted to keep his face calm and disinterested. He was a scientist. A scientist is always fine.

"Yep. He claims he's allergic to space. Red puffy eyes, too. He looks like a sad racoon." A series of beeps emanated from the ceiling and Lovelace added, "Rhea, don't you think you've started enough trouble for one day? Let's all play nice and not tell Lambert what I just said."

"Lambert has allergies to members of the nightshade family, cats, red wine, bees, ragweed, lavender-scented laundry detergent, aggressive dust motes, lactose, uncooked basil, cooked eggplant, and hamsters," recited Selberg. "Space should be more safe for Lambert. No cats."

Lovelace smiled. "You've got quite a handle on our little crew." She grabbed a snail from where it had finally made contact with one of the walls, her motions gentle enough to prevent any injury. "You know us all top to bottom."

"Of course. Am good doctor." He'd focused on Lambert and Hui, the rest of the crew merged into one unimportant being in his mind. He would have to rectify that. Clearly, Lovelace was not a woman to be ignored.

"Well, good doctor, let's cure Lambert. No cats aboard, but what about the rest of the list?" She counted each item on her fingers. "Could there be any potatoes, fresh laundry, ratatouille, milk, ragweed, wine, spices, or hamsters on the station?" Selberg nodded along with each item, considering. "There shouldn't be any dust on a new station, so it can't be that. And there are no bees in space."

Lovelace considerably overestimated how new the station was, but happily that wasn't the only item of interest on the list. "I brought several ragweed samples to Hephaestus. For my research. Working with pollen and ionization properties of star to increase viscosity of gluten-free pasta." Selberg looked ruefully around the lab. "Samples should all be contained."

Lovelace's eyes followed his gaze to the unsealed air vent near the water pipes. "What if - hypothetically speaking - they weren't contained?"

"Then plant would be releasing pollen into station air supply."

"Strange, genetically altered pollen that would override our good sense and fill us with base animal lusts?" Lovelace asked with as straight a face as she could manage. Selberg attempted to glare at her, but it was a difficult expression to maintain in the face of her good cheer and he found himself smiling.

"No, Captain. Pollen that would make Lambert sneeze and face go red." He shrugged. "I am hardly evil genius."

"But what if you were, Doctor?" Lovelace's eyes were twinkling. "What if you'd released some kind of sinister plant monster that was coming for Officer Lambert? The closer it was too striking, the itchier his eyes would get… and what if his allergies were the only hope we had for an early detection system..." She looked hopefully at the AI optical inputs. "Rhea, will you tell Lambert that the Devil’s Snare is on the loose?"

A series of sharp beeps came in answer and Lovelace sighed in resignation. "You're probably right. He's already grumpy enough on his own." She turned back to Selberg. "How long will the pollen be in the air supply system?"

The doctor tapped a finger on the lab bench as he ran the numbers in his head. "Not more than two weeks. Probably. Is not an exact science."

"I'll tell Lambert," she said decisively, and turned towards the door. Selberg watched her leave. He was definitely going to need to read her file again. Carefully.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

"Doctor Selberg, will you help me murder someone?"

Selberg looked up from his dinner with a start. Lovelace and him were the only two people in the mess, but she had seemed lost in thought when he'd sat down opposite her and he hadn't disturbed her. Now, she was looking directly at him, her eyes sparkling. Before he could bring himself to answer, Rhea interrupted with a series of high pitched chirps indicating her displeasure with Lovelace's suggestion.

"Rhea is necessary for mission success, Captain." He kept his expression neutral. Images were pressing through his mind, demanding to be let in. Before Rhea, there had been another. But now was not her time.

"Necessary, and she's a friend. Loose lips, but I'll forgive her." Lovelace grinned at the nearest optical display. "I want to kill Officer Lambert. As slowly and as painfully as you can manage."

"Ah." Selberg let himself smile back at her, more confident of the direction this conversation was going. "What did Communications Officer do this time?"

"Lambert cut me off in the middle of a message to Earth. I was asking an old army buddy to send me the names of the winners from Slamiversary VIII, and he said my communication was a 'waste of valuable station resources'." Her voice slowed in distain as she echoed his words. "So I'm afraid we have no choice. I gave him the chance of aiding me willingly, but he has elected the way of pain." Her mouth quirked a smile as she spoke, but she kept her tone severe.

"I see. Is very serious matter. But maybe murder is overreacting a little." She pouted at him and he continued, "Is more elegant solution."

Lovelace's grimace instantly disappeared. "Doctor, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." She put her hands down on the table reaching towards him. "What do you suggest?"

"Lambert is not complicated man. Simple pleasures. Is much more effective to take pleasures away than his life." Selberg looked intently at her. "Beside, you have vow you will make Officer Lambert laugh. Cannot make dead man smile."

"Your idea has...potential." She bit her lower lip, considering the suggestion. "There's only one flaw in your brilliant plan. Lambert doesn't enjoy anything except following rules. Pryce and Carter should have included tips on how to have a good time." She giggled at a sudden thought. "We could always replace the tips in his Manual with jokes. Deep Space Survival Tip Number 112. What do you get if you mix a mosquito with a mountain climber?" She waited expectantly for Selberg to ask.

"I do not know." They'd been through this before, and he knew his part. Selberg liked the ritual. "What do you get?"

"Nothing. You can't cross a vector and a scaler." Selberg chuckled and Rhea squeaked. "I'm sure I can come up with 1001 jokes if I put my mind to it.

"If not, Lambert has hobby," Selberg reminded her. "Sudoku. Rhea makes and prints them, since he finished ones he brought from Earth. He has stack in Communications."

"That's true. Of course Lambert's favourite game involves putting numbers in boxes. Fourier and Hui like to keep their numbers as far away from boxes as possible."

"Everything is in boxes in the end," Selberg said, a trifle grimly. "But Rhea can decide which boxes Lambert's numbers are in."

"And Rhea's on our side." Several beeps came in answer. "Oh, come on Rhea. If 'very dedicated scientist' Dr Selberg has a sense of adventure, you must have one too. We won't ask you to go against your programming or your delicate sense of honour." Her fingers made air quotes around the words, and Selberg rolled his eyes at her. She responded with the most innocent of expressions.

"Simple bug in Rhea's code, she would print all sudoku with Chinese or Egyptian numerals. Or binary numbers. So many number systems exist." Selberg shrugged. "Would be easy to program."

"And if he ever does manage to fix the bug in Rhea's system, we build in a failsafe. The next puzzle she'd print for him would have no right answer. See how long it takes him to solve that." Lovelace gazed into the optical display. "Rhea, what's your opinion on our little scheme? Your role is critical to mission success."

Rhea was, unsurprisingly, less than enthusiastic about having a bug deliberately introduced into her programming. Surprisingly, she was perfectly happy to go along with their plans and print the modified puzzles in her own, leading Lambert on a merry chase to find the nonexistent bug in her programming. Or maybe it wasn't surprising. Lovelace had a way with everyone. She was a good Captain. Too good for the Hephaestus.

"All that's left is to hide the sudokus Lambert has left."

"Hide, or destroy?" Selberg asked. "When in doubt, whip it out. 'It' being hydrochloric acid."

Lovelace laughed. "Pryce and Carter's most valuable tip." She leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. "You distract Lambert. Tell him you need to examine him for midichlorians. I'll steal the sudokus, and we meet in your lab in two hours. Have the acid ready."


	3. Chapter 3

Lambert was a man of rules. He enjoyed order in deep ways that Lovelace never wanted to understand. Thankfully it did make him remarkably easy to predict, especially when it came to hiding places. The long printout was stacked in the first drawer, pinned between his Pryce and Carter, a star chart and some pencils. Lovelace browsed through the paper. Less than one third of the pages were filled out and that made her smile mischievously. The revenge would be oh so much sweeter.

She stashed the sudokus under her sweater and floated victoriously to the bridge. There was over an hour left before she was supposed to finalize their plan.  
"Rhea?"  
She answered with a few curious beeps.  
"Yes, I got them. Could you tell me when Lambert will leave Selberg's lab?"  
There was a short answer, and Isabel paused, thrown off.  
"What do you mean he just did?"  
Apparently he had, and he'd headed directly for the bridge, because he was already at the entrance. Lovelace quickly straightened her clothes, cringing as the paper rustled as she did it.  
"Officer Lambert? What a surprise!"  
He raised one eyebrow, visibly doubting her innocence. She shouldn't have called him by his rank. It was an obvious tell.  
"Captain. Is this some kind of a ruse, sir?"  
"I don't think I follow, Sam"  
That sounded better, but he still looked unconvinced.  
"Please don't call me that, Captain. Are you and Doctor Selberg plotting something? Is this still about your sport results?"  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Under her breath, she added, "And wrestling is as much an art as it is a sport."  
"Are you sure you don't have anything more to tell me, Sir?"  
"No," she crossed her arms on her chest, trying to look confident while she struggled with keeping the pages in place. "What else do you want me to say?"  
Oh, there it was. One of Lambert's pize-winning scowls. Fortunately, that she could work with.  
"If there's something wrong with your eyesight, better go get checked by our doctor!"  
"Oh, I just did! He tried to check me for midichlorians. Do you think I'm a fool?"  
Lovelace snorted. It was too much when he said it with that face.  
"No, nothing like that. It's just... Did he really say that?"  
There was a pause and Lambert rolled his eyes.  
"Whatever you're planning, Captain, I will find it," he stated over his shoulder as he left.

Lovelace locked the door behind him and opened commlink with the lab.  
"Doctor, seems like certain someone got suspicious. Couldn't you hold him for longer?"  
"He was... problematic. Asked questions."  
"Anyway, he just left me. I'll join you in a minute."  
The comms buzzed off.  
"Rhea, make your programming unavailable for officer Lambert under code Sierra India Sierra Yankee Papa Hotel Uniform Sierra. Let's get this code into the sudokus.

 She rushed down to the lab, almost colliding with Fourier on her way. She barely managed to stop by the right door.  
"Well, doctor, what do we have here?" she said in a sweet voice, waving her prey - the printouts - in one hand.  
"Oh, great to have you here, captain. I was just going to implement the code. Do you want to take a look first?"  
"Of course!"  
She floated to his workstation and inspected the lines from behind his back.  
"So... what does that make it? Sanskrit?"  
"Not exclusively! There is a library of several writing systems here. Based on a randomly generated number, it chooses different one every time."  
She could have figured that out on her own from what he’d written. But Selberg had really gotten into this project. It was good to see him excited like that.  
"Okay, let's look what it does. Rhea, can you implement it?"  
There was a chirpy beeping, then one content sound.  
"Do you like it? Does it work as planned?" Lovelace asked.  
"Do you have all the fonts to print-"  
"It's even funnier if she doesn't! Imagine Lambert fighting with boxes everywhere." She beamed at him.  
After few beeps they knew the fonts would all print. Rhea had an extensive library. Lovelace was still looking at Selberg, sparks of excitement in his eyes.  
"So... Shall we destroy these?" he asked, prying the printouts away from her hand and breaking the eye contact.  
"Only if you have the acid ready! Where is it?"

There was a glass jar at one of the walls. It looked more like something to distill wine, but Selberg insisted she put the pages inside. He closed it carefully, messed around on a keypad and invited Isabel to push one last button.  
A translucent liquid slowly filled the jar.  
"So... how much longer now?" she asked. The ink on the pages was bubbling slowly.  
"Hard to tell. An hour. Maybe... three?" Selberg mused, inspecting the reaction.  
"Does it usually take that long? Can't you make it melt faster?"  
Doctor Selberg was visibly concerned.  
"Captain, it is not something that can be hastened. It is the highest condensation of acid achievable. Not to be taken lightly," he paused and looked at the glass container as if he could wish it to actually speed up, with his commander watching him and all. Lovelace thought he was blushing, but it might have been a trick of light. "Also, it is not simply melting. Is complicated chemical reaction, producing hydrogen and..." he tapped the jar "salts. Probably. Not sure what space ink is made of."  
The silence that fell over them was comfortable, sometimes underlined with a quiet murmur of the reaction. Selberg got a list of the ink components from Rhea and was working out every possible chemical product. He was simultaneously observing the hydrogen bubbles' speed and motion. They didn't seem to know where to go, their impeccable sense of "up" lost in microgravity.

Isabel watched him, enchanted. The concentration on his face was higher that of the acid, topping up at 100% when he looked at the experiment. She wondered if he ever made that face when he thought about something else than science. Someone, maybe. There was nothing that could suggest he was a people's person. No talk about friends, no mark on his hand indicating he ever wore a wedding ring. Probably that's why she found him so alluring. He was a man without a past.  
"Doctor, what are you gonna do when you get back home? You have any plans?"  
He shook his head, not looking up from his notes.  
"So, nobody waiting on you down there?" She knew from his file that he was single, but it was worth a shot to pry his eyes away from paper.  
He stirred, and Isabel proclaimed it a small victory. His answer, though, was not what she'd expected.  
"I am not inquiring about your cats, Captain. Could you do me a favour and leave private matters out?"  
No, I cannot, she thought. And then it hit her.  
"How did you even know about Spot and Jonesy? I didn't tell anyone..." She was sure that she hadn't mentioned it. The cryosleep for her cats though was paid for by Goddard. Maybe the files for medical staff were different from the ones for the military. Or perhaps Selberg had just figured out why Lambert used to sneeze around her at the beginning of the mission.  
She shrugged it off and focused on more important things.  
"Doctor. Have you ever seen Star Wars?"  
"Long time ago. Why?"  
"You really did ask Lambert about the midichlorians?"  
Oh, this was a big victory for Isabel Lovelace. Selberg could actually blush.  
"You told me to. Was it not good pretext?"  
She laughed and floated towards the man. With a sudden feeling of warmth, she put one hand on his shoulder.  
"Always the prankster, huh?" Her touch lingered. The muscles at the nape of his neck seemed very tense. Was he in pain? Probably not, but he did not look comfortable either, and she really wanted to make him feel welcome. Like... part of the crew, right? He sure did a lot to help her with that prank, regardless of how serious he was most of the time.  
Isabel pulled away and looked back at the jar with what was former a stack of sudokus.  
"I guess I'll see you in two hours. This is taking much more time that I imagined."  
Selberg just nodded and moved to one of the displays on the opposite side of the lab.  
Isabel left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knows what franchises did the cat names reference? Tell us in the comments!
> 
> Also, brace for the next chapter. There will be... shenanigans.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good Doctor is surprised by many things, especially by some new information he gets from Lambert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are three parts of this chapter, divided by triple asterisks. The first one and the third one contain mildly sexual content (dreams, fantasies). Nothing too explicit, but if you are sex repulsed you can skip this chapter or read the middle part only.  
> 

She was speaking, but he couldn't hear her. Her lips were moving slowly and he just watched them, bitten and reddish. She was smiling. The colour lit up her cheeks like a drop of substance in a reagent, and when it did spread she opened her eyes, her gleaming eyes of an unknown, yet beautiful and beautifully intense hue. She whispered again, and he understood, not hearing the words, just a murmur and a sigh. Contact. He felt bare in anticipation. There was a flicker of light, like the sun, like back home, and there were fingers, light touches on his shoulders and arms and, and... his whole body was on fire, her eyes shining so bright, the light overcoming, swallowing him and-

He woke up. Elias opened his eyes.

The sweat stuck to his forehead leapt away in beads as he shook his head. He was getting colder, his body losing heat in now open sleeping pod. Not looking down, he touched his abdomen and swore under his breath. Slightly warm and sickeningly sticky. Gross. That's what he was, a disgrace. Getting off on his superior.

He froze. When was the last time he had a wet dream? Things like that didn't happen, and he was happy that they didn't. This was new, though he didn’t feel like investigating. Usually he saw a more familiar face. Usually he heard a laugh, so delicate and careless, it was hard to believe his sister was now lying somewhere, her life suspended in a fabricated sleep. He untangled from the pod straps and fisted his hands.

It was hard to decide which image was more awful. He knew that the subconscious would pull images at will, using faces he was familiar with, people he felt strongly towards. It wasn't hard to avoid it, technically speaking. He masturbated every now and then to keep the distractions away. He preferred to refer to the feelings as distractions, even though it was mostly guilt. Repulsive, tormenting knot in his gut whenever he woke up dirty after seeing Olga's face. And now, Lovelace.

Even when the dreams were blessedly clean, dreams of his sister were never pleasant. Dmitri remembered her as a child, crying when she saw her scars for the first time. Later, Olga developed a habit of tracing burnt flesh of her left arm when she was thinking about something. She stared out of the window and touched patterns on her skin. It made her jaw unlock and the fire in her eyes subdued from an inferno to the warmth of a candle or a fireplace. She would then turn to Dmitri and ask him about school or something similarly irrelevant. She knew he didn't care about anything else. Nothing was more important than Olga.

Elias - he was Elias now - floated to the small bathroom cabin, ignoring Rhea's beeping. Was she trying to joke? Laughing at him? He decided not to care. Cold air hitting his soiled skin was all the punishment he could allow. There was no time to waste on self-pity, when there was someone waiting for him down on Earth.

 

***

 

It was late afternoon, Canaveral time, when Lambert found Dr. Selberg in the terrarium. Dr. Selberg didn't realize that he'd been found, per se. He was far too caught up in his own thoughts to piece together the clues and realize that this was the culmination of weeks of Lambert passive aggressively fuming, followed by a less-than-productive discussion with Lovelace, and finally several days of searching for the perfect moment when they were alone to begin the conversation. All Selberg knew was that Lambert was fixing him with an intense stare and clearing his throat loudly.

“Officer Lambert?” Elias gave up on any attempts to ignore the other man. Lambert had a way of making himself difficult to ignore. “Is everything fine?”

“No it is not!” Lambert replied immediately. “Things are not fine at all. Military code is clearly outlined in section 17, subsection 22, corollary 35b of the Protocol for Officers and Crews in Deep Space. Just because it's not as well known as Pryce and Carter’s other work is no reason to let this station become a - a -” Lambert paused, clearly overcome, “bawdy house.”

In response, Selberg raised an eyebrow. “This is a matter for Captain, no?” He instantly regretted his words. Usually he enjoyed finding excuses for Lovelace to visit his lab, even if she'd only be coming by to make him pay for sending an irate Lambert her way. But he'd avoided Lovelace at breakfast, barely making eye contact with her and responding to her morning cheer with monosyllabic answers. He wasn't ready to face her yet.

Lambert's already high pitched squeak rose several octaves. “I talked to the Captain! She told me to go away! She said Fisher needed help with the catalyzer on the port compression coil.” His volume, as well as the speed of his words, increased rapidly. “Fisher said that part doesn't even exist! I tried talking to Fourier about professional conduct, but she wouldn't stop giggling. Doctor, you have to do something!”

Selberg nodded gravely, inwardly relieved. At least dealing with Lambert was guilt-free. “I see. Is very serious concern. Please explain problem to me? But in English?”

Lambert attempted to compose himself, a process that seemed to involve a lot of regular breathing and moving his shoulders. With a ceremonious air of finality, he spat out only one sentence. “Captain Lovelace needs to stop flirting with you.”

It was rare for Selberg to find himself at a loss for words, but visions of his recent dream seemed to be getting in the way of coherent thought. “Ah.” Rather than answering, he devoted himself to giving the terrarium a thorough visual inspection, checking that none of the snakes were in striking distance. One couldn't be too careful, after all. Finally satisfied, he returned to the matter at hand. “So, Captain is flirting with me? You are sure?” He tried to keep composed expression as he spoke, tried not to remember exactly what he'd imagined her lips doing last night. “We cannot proceed with incomplete information. Details are vital.”

“Dr Selberg.” Lambert crossed his arms over his chest. “Captain Lovelace is your superior officer -”

“Technically, I am civilian,” Selberg interrupted.

Lambert glared at him and continued. “Captain Lovelace is a superior officer to most of this crew. Pryce and Carter specifically mention the effect on crew morale -”

“The crew, they also notice? This flirting?”

“They do! You can deny it all you like, but the situation is painfully obvious to the rest of us. I was talking to Hui and Fisher, and Fisher said that Lovelace's intentions were - and this is a direct quote - ‘not honourable’. And Hui agreed!” Lambert punctuated his statement with an assertive motion of his fist. “They said we should leave things to work themselves out, but I can't do that. Not when you're aiding and abetting this flagrant disregard for the rules!” Lambert gave Selberg a moment to respond, but the doctor was too busy considering the implications of ‘not honourable’ to defend himself. With a huff, Lambert continued. “She's got you distilling lab alcohol for her birthday party! Do you know how many regulations that breaks?”

To be fair, Lambert was probably right about the regulations regarding lab ethanol. But Lovelace looked like a sad kitten when she'd asked him to brew up something nice for her, and they'd both known there was no way he was going to refuse her. Besides, getting his crewmates drunk was hardly the worst rule Selberg was planning to break on this trip. In the end, Selberg shook his head in what he hoped would pass for a conciliatory manner. “I am glad you came to me.”

Lambert visibly brightened. “Really? I mean, of course! You're going to take care of the matter.”

“Yes, Officer Lambert, I will take care,” Selberg answered dryly. “But you should go, before python strangles you.” Lambert looked startled and gave a quick glance around the room, as if only now noticing his surroundings. “Is joke, officer. All snakes here are venomous, not constricting. No need for worry.”

Surprisingly, Lambert did not seem encouraged by hearing this. He made a hasty goodbye and left Selberg to his thoughts. Which was good. Selberg had a lot to think about.

 

***

 

Alone in his pod, Selberg considered Lambert's statements. Perhaps the man was wrong. Lambert was wrong about so very many things. But he had said that the whole crew had noticed, and that included Hui, Fisher, Fourier. Good minds, there.

Feh, how could anyone even even tell? English was a cudgel of a language. Not made for flirting. No wonder crass Americans liked it.

Still. If she had been flirting, then his dream was - was different. Not a disgrace. Maybe she had dreams too. Dreams that he was in. He could imagine her, strapped into her sleep pod, moans that sounded almost like laughter. Fingertips and eyelids twitching, the only external motions of a scene playing out deep inside her head.

His erection strained against the fabric of his pants and he reached down a hand, felt calloused fingers on soft flesh. It was a familiar rhythm and he let himself fall into the sensation. This time, though, Lovelace fell with him. She was there, more than just a face and a smile. He could feel her touch, memories from every time she'd brushed against him in a corridor, her hand soft on his shoulder, each contact burned into his skin, leaving a warmth behind. He closed his eyes. For the first time, he imagined his hand as another's. What would it be like? He adjusted the angle to give in to something else than his familiar grip. Her mouth pressed against his, lips caught between teeth, pulling softly. Playfully. All while he thrusted into her hand. Her voice, whispering against his ear, encouraging him to unwind...

He moved slowly, not wanting this to end. When he finally came with a gasp, he kept his eyes closed for a moment, his hand on his softening cock. For a moment, he stayed with his fantasy Isabel.

And then, once again, he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way Europeans and Americans flirt is very, very different.  
> To people from Europe, the way Americans do the small talk can easily melt into what Europeans do to flirt. That's why Selberg didn't notice that Lovelace was flirting - he thought she was just being nice in the American way.  
> Was he aware that he was kinda maybe flirting with her? Not really, no.  
> We really put a lot of thought into that. You don't believe us? Ask us in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank-you to [Del](http://twine-and-hope.tumblr.com) for being the voice of reason here. They are the best.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> If you want to scream at us, nobody will hear it in space. But we will hear it on tumblr! We are [smilodonmeow](http://smilodonmeow.tumblr.com) and [Tygr](http://acidtygr.tumblr.com)


End file.
